


How Lovely You Are

by rivlee



Series: Live Fast, Die Old [4]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Auctus and Duro didn’t have the most auspicious of beginnings. Takes place in a Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Lovely You Are

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the Starz television series _Spartacus_. No disrespect or harm is meant or intended. Title from Coldplay.
> 
>  **A/N:** Unbeated. From a fic prompt on tumblr by gaygreekgladiator

The chickadees were hopping around on the balcony outside. Duro was asleep, bare body sprawled out on top of the sheets, occasionally shivering when the air from the fan passed over his skin. Auctus was on the floor next to the bed, sketchbook and charcoal in hand, eagerly capturing the lines of the body before him. He didn’t often use charcoal, Auctus was much more given over to clay, metal, and glass, but he needed to capture Duro like this, the lines of that body formed through long swims and even longer runs. 

Duro was smiling his sleep which always meant good dreams. His breathing was still slow and steady. This was as close to still as Duro got. Even when he curled up with his favorite book (really _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ though he told everyone _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ ), feet or fingers were always tapping. Auctus’ life was full of that rhythmic beat and where once he created in mostly silence now he needed that soundtrack in his life.

Charcoal didn’t work for drawing the intricacies of the tight curls in Duro’s short hair. He’d have to just sketch the outline now and go back later. Black dust already covered his hands and forearms. Duro would have a fit when he finally woke-up.

A grin broke out over Auctus’ face. He looked forward to it; the chastisements, the cursing, the constant noise, the caring, the love. He never expected to have this, thought Duro lost before they even really met. 

How wrong he had been. 

 

********************

Auctus loved to watch the city from his balcony. He’d always people-watched, made up stories for everyone he came across, and wondered how they wound up here. So few people were born and raised in this part of the city. It was given over to college students, people trying to find themselves, and those wanting to move into the next _hip_ neighborhood. 

Auctus moved here when he was fourteen to study dance. He excelled at the position. He wasn’t the greatest; New York, Paris, London, Sydney, or Moscow, they would never be his stage. Here though, with its just large enough art scene to be respected, he held a position of principal dancer for years. He was in his late-20s when his left kneecap decided it had enough. They said it was shattered, that it would heal in time, but Auctus knew it was over. It was an open fracture and he faced an early retirement. He’d only known dance for his adult life. Dance, performance, and Barca, those were the three most important things.

By the time he could walk again without too much pain all three were gone. Barca, well, he wasn’t gone but _they_ were over. The injury the final loose stitch in a relationship that had been unraveling for months. They were still close, still friends, but their lives ran in different circles now. Barca left dance when Auctus did. He used his college education, the Master’s degree he picked up just in case, was followed by a Doctorate in Comparative Literature. He was a professor now, teaching students about Gilgamesh and Manu among other things. 

Auctus turned into an artist. He tried his hands at all forms, some more successful than others. 

Today it was painting, or at least it would be, if he could ignore the noise coming from the record store and its neighboring alley below. 

_Bleat Beats_ was one of those ancient independent record stores somehow still in business. Auctus walked by it every day on the way home but he hadn’t gone inside since the new owners took over. Two young brothers who made as much noise as the trains and cabs rolling outside now ran the place. 

Auctus hadn’t spoken to either though he’d passed by them often. The elder and tallest, Agron, had his own fan club of young male and female admirers who came by in the afternoons and on weekends. They watched as he moved shipments and reworked displays, low pants always riding down and short shirt always riding up to reveal a sculpted body and a back full of tattoos. Auctus had a full series of photos he’d taken, sitting at his table in the coffee shop, called _Sexual Awakening_. Gannicus had bought the whole set and proudly displayed them in his office.

Duro was the younger sibling. He was the one who caught Auctus’ eye first. Duro was dark, matted clumps of braids with a few stubborn hairs still clinging to their curls, and warm brown eyes that invited conversation. An amused tilt was a permanent fixture of his lips. He was smaller than his brother, less toned though still impressive in his own way. He favored baggy, worn jeans and pop-culture t-shirts. Half his wardrobe seemed to incorporate chains of some kind. There was a stereotypical skull stud in his left earlobe, a cuff on the upper cartilage of his right ear, and a ring through his left nostril. If he was trying for badass, he came off more as annoyed puppy. He’d heard Duro long before he saw him, and even then, with just his voice raised in annoyed shock, he’d wanted to know more.

Duro was always in the company of a gorgeous blonde woman who looked like she could break everyone in half. Auctus itched to study the lines of her face, with the long hair that framed her gorgeous cheekbones but he hadn’t yet reached those levels of artistic inspired madness.

Besides which, Chadara would kill him if he turned to a new “muse” any time soon. She was possessive, intelligent, and never afraid of challenging any of Auctus’ demands or orders. If she wasn’t so determined to become a stage actress, he’d hire her as an assistant in a heartbeat. Chadara got shit done, even if her methods were unorthodox, and she had no problem speaking her mind. She was a thing of physical beauty but Auctus, when he used her for portraits or sculpture, always found it was her personality that drew him the most. Her eyes saw every little thing, even the stuff most people ignored, and Auctus made it his mission to capture that as often as he could.

His paintings never sold that well, it wasn’t his strong suit, but when he worked with Chadara there was always, _always_ a buyer. 

“What are you looking at?” Chadara asked. She peeked around Auctus’ shoulder. “Oh, the Frei brothers again. I do hope your eyes are set on the younger and not the older. You already have enough unattainable men in your life.”

“I was simply admiring their forms.”

“By which you mean their asses.” 

Auctus glared at her. “Why did I help advance you career again?”

“Because someone needs to put up with your sour attitude. Who else will be your female muse and model?”

“Any random young woman who decides she’s going to try her hand at life in the big city?”

“Ah, but those young ingénues will fall in love with your dark, mysterious, assholeish ways. Your life will turn into every artist-muse tragedy there ever was and ever will be. At least with me there is no guarantee of me boiling a bunny. Or, well, a bird in your case.”

“You are sick.”

“I am entertaining.” Chadara pecked his cheek. “You should talk to him. This cow-eyed mooning of yours is pathetic and so very much clashes with your whole aesthetic.”

He hadn’t pursued anything serious since Barca and he knew anything with Duro would be more than a fling. He wasn’t scared, he just didn’t know if he was ready to do that again.

“I’m sure he’s taken,” Auctus said.

“I’m sure you’re wrong,” Chadara replied.

 

*********************

 

Duro rolled to his side, the bed creaking with his movements. Auctus looked up from his paper. The outline was done, now time for the detail. He checked the clock. They still had two hours until they had to meet Pietros and Barca for lunch. He never thought himself the double-dating kind. He learned certain things were inevitable with Duro and his family and friends in Auctus’ life. 

There was a time when Barca was the most important thing in his world following his dance. He was still one of the most important parts, but they didn’t live for each other anymore. They were friends with an intense shared history. Auctus knew there was never a chance of going back. Barca had Pietros, he’d never witness two human beings so protective and in love with each other. Auctus had his typical cynical bastard moments about true love and anything lasting these days but those two, they lived and died for each other. Auctus thought such intense feelings lost to him and in a way they were. He could live without Duro, he knew how to survive on his own, he just didn’t _want_ to. 

Auctus went back to his sketch and started at the bottom. He loved tracing the muscles of Duro’s legs, be it in sketch on paper or with fingers on skin. 

 

**********************

 

A jealous mind isn’t a rational place and Auctus, on a good day, was far from less than an asshole. He knew that, hell, he almost took _pride_ in it. He had no right to feel jealous over the relationship of a boy he’d never spoken to with a woman he knew nothing about. Everything he’d seen or heard from them was an outsider’s observation. He saw them in the alley behind the store, Saxa hissing Duro’s name and hanging on to him like a lifeline. He saw them getting coffee, eating donuts, throwing bits of leftover sno-cones at each other. They fed the pigeons in the park and chatted with all the old ladies and men who did the same. They did _not_ feed the ducks anymore since one found Duro’s laugh equal to a war-cry. 

That’s what he was though; he recognized it and hated himself for it. Chadara knew of course, she saw through everything, and would not let up.

“I think you’re completely misinterpreting the situation. I know Saxa,” she said. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“They’re close,” Auctus argued. “They’re never apart.”

“They are, you just always seem them together because Agron is serious about the buddy system. I am telling you, it’s not what you think.”

“I’m not blind, Chadara, I can see the connection.”

“You are a hopeless idiot and I am really starting to hate your face.”

Auctus turned from the window. “Just for that, I’m making you hold Archimedes today.”

Chadara shuddered. “Anything but the pigeon.”

“No, it’s been a while since we’ve done a girl with a bird project. Time to refresh.”

“One day I will retaliate. You won’t know where, you won’t know when, but it is coming.”

“That’s nice, dear. Go get the bird.”

It was later in the afternoon long after Chadara left when Auctus found himself out on the balcony watching the game of street hockey below. He assumed it was street hockey. The amount of body checking certainly suggested hockey or rugby or a bastardized mix of the two. Auctus grabbed his closer camera, the simple digital one he used when he just needed inspiration with no intention of shooting for quality. The group below was just so full of life. Their excited shouts easily carried up to Auctus’ balcony. The blonde girl, Chadara’s friend Saxa, took Duro out with a diving tackle. She did a victory dance until Duro grabbed her ankle and dragged her down. Then it was a swirling mass of twisted bodies on the concrete and brick before Saxa emerged first, whipping Duro’s lost shirt around her head and actually crowing in triumph.

Duro stood up, shaking dirt out of his hair, and laughing loudly as he chased after her. 

Auctus’ balcony wasn’t that far above them, he could easily see the details below. Rarely did someone look up and thank god because Auctus knew he had to look like a fool at that moment. The afternoon sun was glinting off the sweat, catching on Duro’s neck, shoulders, the small of his back, everywhere. Auctus _wanted_ desperately. He wanted this _boy_ with his big, dark eyes full of laughter. He wanted to trace those thick, dark eyebrows with fingers and tongue. To taste those lips forever stretched in a taunting smirk. He wanted to discover the dips and curves of Duro’s body, from the breadth of his shoulders to the swell of his ass. 

It wasn’t for him though, none of this was, and he had to move on. This was pathetic. This was turning into something borderline stalking and Auctus never, ever, wanted to be _that_ man. The older, pathetic, lonely asshole who fell for the young, straight boy who wasn’t yet jaded by life. 

 

**********************

Auctus had always loved and studied the human form. It was a necessity of dance and it easily carried over into his art. Duro didn’t move like a dancer. He wasn’t graceful. He stumbled over, into, and on top of things. Each morning brought some new bruise or scratch of mysterious origin. Auctus had, for lack of a better term, freaked the fuck out the first morning after when, in the sunlight, he saw the massive bruising on Duro’s back. Apparently he had a run-in with a brick wall before their date. Auctus sometimes worked with glass, wire, and welding and never had his first aid kit been so well stocked since Duro came into his life as a permanent fixture. 

There were bruises now around Duro’s shins. Saxa’s doing, most likely, from whatever game they played. He never would understand those two and their penchant for seeing who could draw blood first. 

He quickly marked the spots of all the familiar scars and scrapes telling the road map of a young man who never knew when to keep his mouth shut. The first time Duro had come home with a busted lip and black eye, Auctus lost his shit. It was only Chadara, who forced Auctus into the bathroom until he calmed down, that made him listen. Duro was always going to get into fights. He didn’t take to injustice well. Things weren’t often grey for Duro; black and white, good and bad, he reacted rather than thought things through. It was a family trait, Chadara explained, and to love a member of that family meant nights of icing busted lips, eyes, fingers, and ribs. 

He never did tell Melitta why he undertook that glassblowing series in a color palette that could only be called _bruise_. 

*************************

It was the first day of true Autumn weather when Auctus finally met Duro face-to-face. His apartment felt too stuffy that day. Everything he tried to create turned into shit. After he trashed his third attempt at a simple fucking bowl, he grabbed his camera and headed for the streets. 

Auctus never felt photography was his strong suit; he’d seen people with much more talent and heart over the years, but it was the art form that brought him the most money. There was a time, after he broke his kneecap, when all he did was photograph. He took any job that paid and for a while was _the_ photographer for up-and-coming bands on the local music scene. He still loved it, he just felt more comfortable working clay, metal, wood, or glass. 

He was propped up on one of the stone planters checking through his photos when a shadow fell across his feet. He looked up to see the familiar hair of Duro Frei. He’d never been close enough to see his face in such detail and Auctus’ mouth went dry at the sight. 

“Holy shit, you’re Auctus Housiadas,” Duro said. He smiled, perfect white teeth almost blinding, and held out his hand. “I am huge fan of your art. Loved the sleeve design you did for Naevia’s last album. And that installation last month, with the found pieces of metal and glass, that was fucking awesome.”

Auctus blinked at that rapid speech. He somehow managed to shake Duro’s hand and kept to the standard firm handshake.

“Sorry, man, you probably don’t need someone babbling at you. Just had to let you know. Always promised myself if I saw you around I’d say something. Pietros said you live in this area but I’ve never got the chance to see you.”

“You know Pietros?” Auctus asked. 

“Oh, yeah. We go way back. The two new kids together in middle school.”

“I didn’t realize he had a lot of friends his age.”

Duro’s smile was evil. “They’re a little intense, Barca and Pietros. Saxa says she’s never seen one without the other.” His eyes widened. “Saxa, shit, her latte.” He scrambled for something in his pockets and pulled out a red business card. “You ever want to shoot the shit or just need a break to flip through some vinyl, come down to _Bleat Beats_. We’re on the corner of—”

“I know where it is,” Auctus said. He took the card. “Thanks, I’ll have to stop by.”

“You should. Nasir, he fucking adores your glass work. Agron actually scraped up the money to buy him the _Fight of Flight_ piece for his birthday. Nasir’s going to lose his shit when he finds out.”

“I’ll be sure to visit soon.” 

“Duro,” a voice yelled.

They both turned to watch Saxa stroll up, hair pulled back from her face and looking five different types of pissed off. 

“Gotta go before she kills me.” Duro winked at him. “She bites. It was hella nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Auctus said. 

Auctus raised his camera just in time to get a picture of Duro walking away, Saxa’s arm twisting in the back of his shirt as she tugged him towards the coffeehouse. 

They really did make a gorgeous pair.

Their conversation stayed with him until dinner that night. It felt, it was, it was natural. Comfortable. It shouldn’t have been like that, he couldn’t, he _refused_ to feel like this. He tried to focus on his dinner plans but that brought up a whole other round of bullshit Auctus didn’t feel like analyzing at the moment. 

There was something inherently wrong about having a regular dinner appointment with his ex-boyfriend and said ex’s current husband. Auctus wasn’t exactly the friend-making type though, and he and Barca were for life in a completely different way now. He came to peace about their break-up long ago. There was little he couldn’t share with Barca, who knew him at his worst. He didn’t like to bring that _here_ though, not in this comfy house in the suburbs with its window seats, two dogs, three cats, and a parakeet. 

Auctus’ mouth had a different plan and before he took his coat off, the question was out. 

“What do you know of Pietros’ friend Duro?”

Barca gave him that knowing look as he pointed at the mat for Auctus’ shoes. “Why do you ask?”

“I ran into him today, in the park.”

He followed Barca into the kitchen where he was in the middle of making dinner. Auctus snatched a dinner roll before Barca could punch him and settled at the kitchen table. He knew better than to try and help when Barca was attempting a culinary masterpiece.

“So, what do you know?” he asked again. 

“Besides that he doesn’t know when to give up or shut up? Nothing. He’s Pietros’ friend. He’s always with his brother or Saxa. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him alone.”

“I couldn’t imagine that,” Auctus deadpanned.

“I don’t have to feed you.”

“Yes, you do,” Pietros said as he breezed in through the backdoor. He hugged Auctus as he quickly passed over to Barca’s side. “If you didn’t, you’d worry he’d roam the streets living off rats and Taco Bell.” He pulled Barca down into an impressive greeting kiss.

This was why Auctus could be at peace, even comfortable around them. There was love between him and Barca but never, ever, anything like this. Barca never looked at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world to be protected at all costs. Pietros wasn’t helpless in the least but he got Barca, he understood, Barca _needed_ someone to protect. 

“Auctus has a question about your friend,” Barca said, stepping back as he returned to his sauce. 

“Oh, which one,” Pietros asked. He snagged a dinner roll for himself and another for Auctus and sat down.

“Duro. I ran into him today. Said a Nasir was a fan of his work.”

“Yeah, that’s his brother-in-law, Nasir Zaman.”

“Zaman. Wait, the writer of that kids’ series?”

“Young Adult and yeah, he, uh, sore subject. It makes him money but god, Nasir hates that _those_ are the books making him famous.” Pietros rolled his eyes clearly not a fan of the topic. “What do you want to know about Duro?”

“He said he was a fan. I just thought it was funny we hadn’t met until now. We run in the circles. We didn’t get to talk long, he had to leave with a young woman.”

“A blonde, not Chadara?” Pietros asked.

Auctus nodded.

“Yeah, his cousin, Saxa. Wow, you survived a Saxa encounter unscathed. I guess Chadara really did warn her off.”

“His _cousin_?”

“Yeah, Saxa. She’s more like their sister. She’s lived with them for, like, eight years now. She’s kind of a ballbuster.”

“His cousin.”

“Yeah,” Pietros said. “Why?” 

“I thought they were dating.”

Pietros laughed. “Duro’s an equal opportunist but Saxa’s not his type. He likes them quieter, more subtle.”

“A perfect change from his personality,” Barca said.

“Who wants to date themselves other than egotistical jackasses?” Pietros asked with a far-too-innocent smile.

Auctus almost choked on his roll. It was always a gift to see Barca brought down to size by the slightest twist of Pietros’ words.

Cousin, though, that was not what he expected. Maybe, there could be a chance. He could at least try. Auctus felt the bite of the business card in his pocket. He’d sleep on it; see how he felt in the morning.

********************

Duro scrunched his nose. His breathing patterns were starting to change. He’d be awake soon. Auctus rushed to get the last bits of detail down; the v of his hips, the dip between his pectorals, the image of the Frei family crest forever tattooed into his skin. 

“Drawing me in my sleep is creepy,” Duro muttered into his pillow. 

“Just be thankful I didn’t break out the flash photography or a video camera. I don’t think your precious ego could handle the sight of you sleeping like a puppy.”

Duro threw Auctus’ pillow at him. He had amazing accuracy for someone who wasn’t even looking. Auctus frowned. There was now charcoal all over his favorite pillowcase. He looked at his dusty hands, then at Duro’s bare shoulders. There was clearly only one possible form of retaliation.

**********************

 

 _Bleat Beats_ was empty when Auctus walked inside. He wasn’t surprised, it was 11am on a Wednesday, hardly prime business hours. Duro was behind the counter flipping through a magazine. 

“Take a look around. If you plan on shoplifting at least let us know,” he said in a bored tone. 

“I fully believe in supporting my local independent stores through monetary means.”

Duro’s head shot-up and he fumbled the magazine. It tumbled to the floor with a crash, inserts scattering over the floor.

“Fuck,” Duro said. He hopped the counter. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting you here. In this store. Now. With me. Um, what’re you looking for?”

“Inspiration,” Auctus said. “I’ve been asked to do a new piece and music helps.”

“You get a lot of commissions then?”

“Enough. This one is a favor for an old friend.”

“Generous, I like that,” Duro said. He shoved the fallen magazine behind one of the stands with his foot. “Any type of mood you’re going for?”

“Something soothing. The work needs to be peaceful.”

“Does the music though?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Right.” Duro walked over to the Jazz section. “You can never go wrong with Billie Holiday. It’s not exactly peaceful but for emotional toil it’s pretty damn soothing, like she’s singing out all the pain in the world. We’ve got some Lena Horne here too if you want something less depressing. Or Nina Simone of course.”

“I’ve always favored Etta and Ella.”

Duro palmed his face. “Right, of course, you know Jazz with the dance past.”

“I didn’t realize my biography was out there.”

“Besides the blurb in the pamphlets for your showcases, there’s that magic thing called _Wikipedia_.”

“I’m not that old, or ill-informed. I just didn’t know I _had_ a Wikipedia page.”

“Pietros gets bored at work,” Duro explained. He dropped his head and Auctus swore he blushed. “Besides, I, um, kind of knew anyway. When Pietros and I were in high school we had a field trip to see one of your shows.”

Auctus hoped his eyes weren’t really as wide as they felt. That was a surprise. “Really, which one?”

“ _Pippin_. It um, it was also the first time Pietros saw Barca.” Duro gripped the back of his neck. “I can’t believe I just admitted that.”

“I can’t believe your school let you see that.”

“Mr. Lucius always had a different way of teaching history.”

“Lucius? Anthony Lucius? He was your high school history teacher?” Auctus laughed. “That explains more than you could ever know. The little shit.”

“Hey, at least we all still know Pippin was Charlemagne’s son. It wasn’t historically accurate but it got us to remember.” 

“And a perfect way for Lucius to fight what he called the school board’s draconian policies for cutting off individualism.”

“You know him?”

Auctus flipped through a display of employee recommended albums and grabbed a handful. If he didn’t like anything, he’d pass it on to Barca or Pietros. If nothing else, they’d get used at Pietros' coffee shop.

“I studied with Lucius when I was a younger,” he said.

A lifetime and a career ago. Auctus eyes were captured by some of the merchandise with the store’s logo on it. It wasn’t bad, a decent graphic design, but hardly unique. 

“Where did the name come from?”

Duro shrugged. “Beats seemed too common.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

Auctus nodded. “I want to know.”

Duro shook his head in disbelief. “Okay. When my grandfather came to America, he’d never lived in a city. He was a country boy, through and through. He didn’t have the education or the proper grasp of English to work in an office. He knew music though, and he knew how to sell. He was in the park when he got the idea for the store.”

“How?”

“He was watching some toddlers play and he said he realized there are five universal languages in this world.”

“Which are?”

“Love, art, music, math, and animal sounds.”

“Bleat,” Auctus said.

“Baa,” Duro answered. 

He softly laughed. “Baa Beats somehow sounds more dignified.”

“I’m just thankful it’s not Bark Beats. We get enough strange clientele as is.”

Auctus was saved from making an ass of himself by the jingling of the door’s wind chimes.

“I’m late I know,” Chadara yelled as she came barging in. “Saxa forget to reset the alarm and—oh, hello.” She looked up from her bag and smiled like an imp.

Auctus tried not to grimace. He didn’t trust that smile one bit.

She sauntered over to them and rested her chin on Duro’s shoulder. “Duro, aren’t you going to introduce me to our friend.”

“He’s not, he’s a customer, Chadara.”

“Do you blush like that in front of _all_ your customers.” Chadara looked up at Auctus and winked. “Or just the ridiculously attractive ones.”

“You have a girlfriend,” Duro hissed.

“No crime in looking,” Chadara said. “Saxa would agree with me.” She held out her hand. “Hello, stranger. Welcome to _Bleat Beats_. I hope you’ve been serviced today.”

Auctus laughed and took her hand. It was best to play along with Chadara’s schemes. Trying to fight them was like trying to fight the inevitable. 

“Hello, Chadara. I’m Auctus.”

“Welcome, Auctus. Oh, that name’s familiar. Auctus Housiadas, the local artist?”

“Yes,” Auctus replied as he fought to keep his face still.

“Oh, Duro’s brother-in-law loves your work. Do you have a studio space? Duro, you can go check out his new pieces and tell Agron. You know he’s always looking to buy something special for Nasir.”

“Nasir put a ban on Agron’s Extravagant Surprises.”

Chadara patted his shoulder. “A painting or photograph print isn’t extravagant, it’s thoughtful. You do sell prints, yes?”

“I do,” Auctus said. Which Chadara knew. She was hardly recognizable in his work but she damn well knew how many of the pieces and prints she appeared in. 

“Well, there you go. You two should go do that now. It could be a lunch date.”

Duro looked ready to murder her; Auctus was familiar with the feeling.

“Chadara, I really don’t think Mr. Housiadas has the time for that.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Auctus said. “My studio isn’t far from here.”

“See, you’ll be back before the afternoon rush.”

Duro turned back to Auctus. “I mean, I’m not going to turn down the chance to see your work. You sure you don’t mind, dude?”

“It’s never a burden sharing my work with someone I know appreciates it. First though, let me pay for these.” He held up the cds in his hands.

“Oh, I’ve got that,” Chadara said. She shoved Duro. “Go change your shirt. You smell like cardboard and puppy breath.”

“I do not,” Duro yelled. He looked at Auctus. “Do I?”

“Kind of. I don’t mind.”

“Change. Now,” Chadara ordered. 

They both waited until the break room door closed before speaking.

“What the hell are you up to, little chickadee?” he asked. 

Chadara just smiled. “Right now I’m ringing up your order. Tomorrow when we have our regular sundae appointment, I’ll be demanding the details. Just be careful Auctus; that one can bite.”

“You could’ve told me he wasn’t dating Saxa.”

“I thought the phrase, _my girlfriend Saxa_ was clear enough. Next time I’ll be sure to wave a little flag for you.” She held out her hand. “That will be $35.02.”

“Ah, so you’ve moved to highway robbery, I see.”

“Besides the fact that we both know you can afford to buy this whole store, you’re also supporting your local economy. Go Indie or some bullshit.”

“If you’re vying for the Worst Cashier Ever title, you’re winning.”

“Please,” Chadara scoffed, “you’re going to love me when this starts, whatever it is.”

“Why are you doing this now?”

“Because the two of you are infatuated with the image and ideals of each other. I figured it was time you spoke.”

“Chadara.”

“Fine. I still thought you were hung up on Barca. I think it’s weird, okay, to spend that much time with your ex. Duro’s the first guy you’ve been interested in and look, I love Duro. He doesn’t always think the best of himself because it’s rough. To fit in-between the personalities of Agron and Saxa, to have Pietros as a best friend, to not be some talented artist, musician, or photographer’s wet dream, it’s rough. Duro’s never going to be the smartest, strongest, or most talented. He’s got heart though, so much of it. So, I’m protective.”

Chadara, once she believed in something, was completely in with her full force and power. She was a smart woman and so much kinder than most people would assume. She could be blunt, she was rough around the edges, and yet, this is why he loved her. She protected what was hers. 

Even from each other. 

***********************

There were long, black charcoal streaks covering Duro’s body. Those were the lines of Auctus’ fingers, from behind Duro’s ears, over his chest, wrapping around his hips, down his ass, wisps of dust even on the back of his kneecaps. Auctus washed his hands in the sink and wet a cloth to start cleaning Duro off. He’d had to get him to back away from the fridge first. 

Duro closed the door with a disgusted sigh. “You’re the real adult here. You’re supposed to have more than mustard and carrots in your fridge.”

“Don’t you know I’m a suffering artist?” He pulled Duro between his legs and started to wipe the traces of grey and black off his face first. 

“You’re loaded and own this building,” Duro said. 

“Only half. Gannicus owns the other half.”

“How?”

“Oenomaus suggested he diversify his investments into rental properties. I think he takes a sick joy in calling himself a landlord. He likes the business cards or some shit.”

“He needs to seek professional treatment,” Duro complained as he turned around to have his back cleaned. 

“With all the blows to his head and the functioning alcoholism, I don’t disagree.” Auctus frowned at the mess on the floor. “One day I’ll remember to do this in the bathroom.”

“Hell no, I’m not having charcoal stains in that bathtub of yours, it’s too nice. The kitchen floor is much easier to clean.”

Auctus nodded. He knew there was no fighting it, not anymore.


End file.
